


With Or Without You

by ashapoop



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate universe - Mafia, Angst, Did I mention angst, I love writing them in pain, M/M, Memories, So much angst, i guess, it's lowkey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 10:36:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashapoop/pseuds/ashapoop
Summary: It wasn’t until he stepped on the envelope that he actually knew it was under the floor, slipped under the door when he didn’t even see. He took his hand off the doorknob and glanced down, seeing the paper before grabbing it up and sitting down with his back against the door. His fingers shakily traced over the words on the front of the envelope in what he could easily recognize as Otabek’s handwriting.Yura.





	With Or Without You

It was always the nights where he never slept that were the worst, too busy pacing the floor as he waited for Otabek to come home. There were a handful of times where he didn’t come home, but he always sent a text with even just a letter to let Yuri know he was alright. But not tonight. Yuri found himself slowing down at 5 AM, deciding to settle on the couch, and falling asleep for forty minutes. He sat up with a quick start and looked around, calling out his lover’s name only to get no response. He checked his phone and still nothing from him. 

  


Last night, Otabek warned him that it would be dangerous and that was what prevented Yuri from consuming any food, nervous he’d only empty it back out from his flipping stomach. The hours passed like minutes and he found himself unable to leave the living room, phone glued to his hand while he simply stared forward. He never wanted to go back to a life where Otabek wasn’t beside him, never wanted to be that lonely boy who was too busy yelling at the world to take a breath. Otabek opened his eyes and helped him walk rather than run, helped him build a foundation and built him so high that if the Kazakhstani were to leave, he would crumble in a second. 

  


The sun was falling already and still Yuri was alone, having shed a few tears once his mind wandered into the deep end, even if it was just a toe in the water. He curled up on his side, gathering Otabek’s mother’s blanket over his small frame as he stared at the screen. Every part of him wanted to go to the dock with the largest gun he could find, screaming until he found Otabek and brought him home safe where he belonged, but he couldn’t risk it. Not only would he be killed in a second, but so would his lover -- he couldn’t be the cause. 

  


As the time on his phone screen changed from PM to AM, Yuri felt real fear coursing through his veins as he began to shake and his lip quivered. He blinked back tears time after time until it all bubbled up and he sat up, a heavy sob erupting from the smallest parts of him, taking over his body in near violent waves. Never before had it been like this, the paranoia and fear that danced through his mind, taking him over in a way he never knew it could. His thumb was pressing harder and harder into his screen until there was a sharp prick, glass poking into his finger with no mercy, and he let out a scream as he threw his phone as he could at the wall. He hiccuped as he tried his hardest to calm down until he grew sick of it -- sick of himself. In a clumsy motion, he stomped to their bedroom and grabbed Otabek’s jacket, smelling so pleasantly of musk and wildflowers, and his own handgun before shoving his feet in a pair of dirty sneakers. Fuck caution, he thought. I want Beka. 

  


It wasn’t until he stepped on the envelope that he actually knew it was under the floor, slipped under the door when he didn’t even see. He took his hand off the doorknob and glanced down, seeing the paper before grabbing it up and sitting down with his back against the door. His fingers shakily traced over the words on the front of the envelope in what he could easily recognize as Otabek’s handwriting. 

  


_Yura._

  


The assumptions jumped across his mind quickly, warning sirens loud in his ears as he turned it over and his finger slipped under the lip and opened the envelope slowly as he exhaled through his nose. Despite his denial, he knew damn well what would be inside and it took all he had not to lose it all over again. As his fingers closed around the paper, he couldn’t even pull it out, instead letting the envelope rest in his lap as he let his head fall, trying to control his erratic breathing. If he could live in this moment of denial forever, waiting for Otabek to come home, he would. He didn’t want this to happen, he didn’t want everything to change. He didn’t want it to stop.

  


After what felt like hours, he finally found his strength once again and pulled the letter free and unfolded it, hand flying to his mouth as his eyes began to burn again. His eyes jumped all over the words written by Beka, his Beka, yet he was unable to read any of them. He was so close, right here all over this paper, yet so far away. With a slow inhale that felt like someone was wringing his neck, he tried to steady his hands and read what was written for him.

  


***

_Yura,_

  


_If you’re reading this, I think we both know what happened. I keep this in my jacket at all times just in case something happens because I want your last memories of me to be this letter. We’re both terrible with our words but I’m going to try my best so don’t get mad._

  


_You’re easily the most important person that has ever walked into my life, that goes without a second thought. You strolled on in, yelling until people across the world had to cover their ears, and I was drawn to you effortlessly. Yes, even when you asked why I was wearing my sunglasses inside like a “fucking asshole”._

  


_I’d never been in love with another person until I met you. I thought it was some stupid myth that my mother told me to help me fall asleep when I was younger. I thought that it was for people who were weak, stupid, or some combination of the two. And then I saw your eyes and the way you held yourself, cocky and overconfident, and I knew I needed you by my side until I died._

  


_And God was I lucky to have done so._

  


_You’re beautiful, Yura. You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. You’re so strong and cold on the outside, always sneering and biting and inside you’re so warm. I love when it’s late and your anger falls and you curl up against me, face buried in my neck, until I hear you softly snoring -- you totally do snore. There are countless nights where I didn’t sleep, instead watching you while overwhelmed with the thoughts of how lucky I was to have you there with me, time and time again. I’d never sleep again if it meant I could have you forever, every second of every day._

  


_I need you to know that I love you. I need you to know the embarrassing things that I’d never say to you out loud no matter what amount of money was thrown my way. Try not to laugh or hold these stupid things until the afterlife where we’re together again and you beat the shit out of me._

  


_I have three photos of you in my wallet that have been there since they were printed off by that stoner three floors down. The first is that first day we met, where you insisted we took a photo together to post on Instagram. You were wearing that hideous cheetah jacket and my hair was cut stupidly short, a mishap at the barber a week before. The sun was shining so brightly on you, you looked like an angel. ~~You still do.~~_

  


_The second photo is one I took of you on my old shitty phone while you were asleep still. It’s almost disturbingly close to your face and you were smiling softly, wrapped up tightly around the big tiger plush I bought you for your 19th birthday. A few minutes after I took the picture, you said my name so tenderly I thought you were awake. But I guess you were just dreaming about me. I’d never known real happiness until that moment._

  


_The third photo is from the day I proposed at our cafe, the one you dragged me to the moment you found about the cats they had hanging around. I was down on one knee sliding the ring on your finger as your mouth was wide open, yelling at Victor for taking a picture but there were tears on your face and your eyes were so bright with happiness that no one would guess you were “mad” unless they were there._

  


_You always fall asleep before me, that’s a given, and every night before I fall asleep, too, I always kiss your forehead. My mother used to do that to me as a child and she told me that it was so she would stay in my thoughts and dreams. I was selfish, always wanting to be in your thoughts so it became my nightly ritual. On those rare nights you’d stay up really late, I’d do everything I could to stay up even just a moment longer._

  


_I planned to propose months in advance. I had a notebook that was filled completely with ideas, plans, even scripts of what I was going to say. It ranged from taking you to Barcelona to asking with a tiger from Las Vegas to having Victor pop out from a giant cake armed with sparklers. He wrote that one down, actually. I’m sure if you asked him, he’d give you the notebook. He probably still has it._

  


_I don’t regret how I asked though, feeling like I’d explode if I didn’t ask right then and there at that cafe while you had three cats on your lap._

  


_Of all that I’ve done in my life, I’ve tried to live with no regrets. I lived every day to its fullest and it was easy to do so when you were right next to me. There were hard times, falling into ruts I never thought I’d escape, but still I don’t regret the circumstances and how they laid out. Of everything that ever happened in my life, there’s only one thing I regret and that's not marrying you. I hope you’ll forgive me, Yura. I love you more than anything on this Earth and I dare someone to try and tell me of a greater love than ours. I’ll love you forever, even now while I’m gone._

  


_I love you, Yuri Plisetsky._

  


_Please don’t forget me._

  


_махаббат,_

_Otabek_

  


***

  


In a deafening silence, Yuri stared down at the letter as he finished, taking in sharp, short breaths as he tilted his head back so the tears wouldn't wet the paper. He couldn't bear the thought of even a single letter smudging.

  


"You fucking idiot," he whispered, trying to hold back the wavering in his voice. "I could never forget you."

**Author's Note:**

> The group chat said this was lit, hope y'all enjoy!


End file.
